


No Other Rose Would Smell Quite As Sweet

by lukeisfobaf (polie121900)



Category: Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: M/M, flowershop au, modern day AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-04-27 12:23:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14425347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polie121900/pseuds/lukeisfobaf
Summary: Benvolio lives a simple, pleasant life working at his flower shop. He's content with the life he lives, and there's nothing that he truly wants, but that all changes when he meets his cousin Romeo's new friend, Mercutio.





	1. Chapter 1

The sun was shining, gleaming through the front glass windows. The room smelled of freshly picked flowers and petrichor. A gentle moisture floated through the air. And throughout the soft feel of the room, Benvolio Montague stood contently, humming quietly to himself as he clipped the stems of a dozen roses to keep them fresh. A few droplets of water fell from their petals to his apron, but he didn’t mind all that much. It was a pleasant job, and he lived a pleasant life.

The front door opened, chiming a small bell.

Putting his customer service face on, Benvolio turned to greet the potential buyer, making sure to seem as friendly as possible. “Hi, welcome to Montague Flowers, what’s the-”

A loud voice interrupted him, filling the room. “And then I said, you, my lady, are the most beautiful girl in the entire city, and of course, she was just immediately enamored with me, and I couldn’t help but feel the same way.” Benvolio sighed, dropping his painted on smile as he recognized the dark, messy haired man who was walking up to his stand, continuing to talk loudly to who Benvolio presumed was his friend. “But really, I genuinely think I’m in love this time. I really think she’s the one.”

Benvolio rolled his eyes, pursing his lips a little as the two men reached the counter. He already knew exactly how to sass the dark haired Italian. “Ah, and how long have you known this lovely lady, my dearest cousin?”

The man looked down a bit sheepishly, “subtly” avoiding eye contact with Benvolio. “Three days...”

The other man, a tall, slightly scruffy blonde, burst out laughing, slapping the other on the back as he laughed. “Three days?” He wheezed, keeling over slightly. “That’s hardly longer than most arguments I have!”

Benvolio switched his attention to the blonde, noting a small sparkle in the man’s grey eyes when he laughed. Benvolio smiled. He could appreciate a man who could knock his cousin down a few notches if need be.

The cousin, meanwhile, was not nearly as thrilled about the conversation at hand. He pouted like a toddler, crossing his arms quickly. “Three days is enough to know if you truly love a person!”

The friend continued to laugh, but Benvolio forced himself tear his gaze away from him, instead focusing on the 24 year old toddler who stood before him. “Alright Romeo, what will it be this time, roses or carnations?”

Romeo focused his attention back onto his curly-haired cousin, all indication of pouty toddler-likeness gone. “Her favorite flower is actually orchids, so could you make an arrangement with lots of those?”

Benvolio smiled gently, suppressing his excitement over being able to use his new materials. “It just so happens,” He replied as he walked into his back room, “That I just received a brand new shipment of orchids, so you’re in luck.” He paused, taking a deep breath before he began. “This shouldn’t take long.”

He always begins with choosing the right vase. In this instance, it was a tall, thin, soft green vase with a more rounded opening. Afterwards, he filled the 3/4 of the vase with water, careful to not spill any of the water onto the main arranging table. Next, he carefully chose a handful of amber-colored orchids mix with cone flowers, wild flowers, and dahlias, then proceeded to cut 3/4” off the ends of the stems before gently placing them in the vase, arranging them for the most aesthetically pleasing image. To finish off, he sprinkled a few sprigs of berries into the arrangement, which completed his creation. He grinned happily at his creation as he tied his signature white bow around the smallest point on the vase, in this case around the top, and picked it up to bring it back into the main shop.

As he was returning, Romeo caught his eye, and Benvolio beamed at him, very proud of his creation. As he set it down next to the register, he noticed Romeo looking at it excitedly, which caused him to beam even brighter.

“Wow!” He exclaimed, eyeing the arrangement up and down. “That really didn’t take long at all, what was it, like, 10 minutes?”

“15 minutes.” Benvolio corrected him.

“That’s... actually still pretty cool.” Romeo admitting, still smiling at the flowers. “And it even looks really cool, I can’t thank you enough for this.”

Benvolio rolled his eyes slightly, but he still maintained his smile. After all, his skills were being complemented, even if they were in a super immature, Romeo-esque fashion. He sighed quietly, happily ringing up the arrangement. “Alright, usually I’d charge about $60 for this entire arrangement, _especially_ considering the fact that I used my brand new orchids on it, but since you’re you, I’ll lower it down to about $30, sound good?”

Romeo looked down at the floor once again, refusing to make eye contact with his young cousin.

“Romeo?” Benvolio’s smile faltered, turning downward slightly. “Romeo, what did you do?”

Romeo looked up slowly, offering a sheepish smile. “Well....”

Benvolio sighed. “You don’t have any money, do you.”

Romeo’s sheepish smile grew, his eyebrows lowering, his nose curling, his shoulder raising up slightly. “I... may.. have.. spent all of my money on that girl I was talking about earlier...?”

“Romeo!” Benvolio chastised, his voice raising slightly. “Why did you come to shop and get an arrangement done if you knew for a fact that you didn’t have any money!?!?”

“I figured that you’d give it to me for free, since we’re related and all?”

Benvolio rolled his eyes once more. He knew it was a bad habit, but he couldn’t help himself. How could he be the younger yet way more mature and responsible one? “Fine, I’ll-”

“I’ll cover it.”

Benvolio looked over to the blonde once again, watching him fish his wallet from his coat pocket. After pulling a 100 dollar bill out, he gently placed it into Benvolio’s hand, smirking a charming smirk up at him. “Keep the change.”

His heart skipped a beat.

Benvolio attempted to stutter something out, _anything_ out, whether it be a refusal of such a high amount or a thank you or even “have a nice day”, but nothing came out. He just stood there in awe as he watched the two leave the store.

The bell attached to the door chimed as it opened, and it soon shut with a small click.

Benvolio didn’t even catch his name.


	2. Chapter 2

It was rare for the city to have such nice weather in April, so whenever the sun shone this brightly and the clouds disappeared from the sky, Benvolio took the time to walk to work rather than take the bus. The gentle breeze paired with the soft warmth on his skin was, quite possibly, the nicest feeling in the entire world. Even the gentle sounds and smells of the area (chirping songbirds and fresh bread from the neighboring bakery, respectively) made the stroll rather pleasant, and one that he always appreciated whenever he got the opportunity.

Unfortunately, that pleasantry was about to be shattered, as just as he placed his hand on the handle of the shop’s door, he heard a loud groan. 

Benvolio stopped, looking around him with a puzzled expression. No one seemed to be around, but the noise sounded close, so close he should have been able to see the source. After a minute or so of looking around, he was about to give up, but the noise sounded once again. 

The back alley.

Taking soft, cautious steps, Benvolio peered around the corner, intrigued yet afraid to what he would find. He didn’t want to be attacked, as he was often worried about due to living in a city like this, but he also didn’t want to leave someone defenseless if they were being hurt. If there was a fight, or, even worse of a sight, a ruthless beating, he’d have to find a way to stop it. 

Surprisingly, there was no fight, no beating, no sign of a struggle at all. Only a scruffy young man with a mop of dirty blonde hair who was slumped against the brick wall, face scrunched up in pain. Benvolio, curious, inched closer.

“Hey, are you-” Benvolio froze, his words trailing off. He suddenly recognized the young man as Romeo’s friend from the other day, the one with the surprising amount of money and the sharp grey eyes. His usual smooth words turned to a stammer. “Y-you.... Are you okay?”

The man turned to him, meeting his concerned gaze, and Benvolio was drawn closer. Noticing Benvolio’s eyes on him, the man turned his wince to a crooked smile, his lips curling up almost painfully. “Aw, it’s nothing, don’t worry about me.” He said, his voice cracking slightly. “Just a little fight, that’s all.”

As the man adjusted his position slightly, his side became visible. Benvolio gasped.

“You’re bleeding!”

The man turned to look. “Oh.” He chuckled. “It seems I am.”

Benvolio surged forward, kneeling down by the man. The movement was seemingly involuntary, like his limbs were just moving without his permission. “Here, let me help you.” He said assertively, grasping him by the wrist. “I have bandages and stuff at my shop, it’s not far from here at all.”

The man continued to smile his crooked smile, raising his eyebrows a bit. “Don’t worry, I can take care of myself, but thank you.”

Benvolio rolled his eyes, exhaling audibly. “Well, clearly you can’t take care of yourself, considering the fact that you’re laying in the middle of a dirty alley.” He said, raising his eyebrows to match the other man and pursing his lips slightly. “I really think you should take my offer.”

The man thought for a moment, then grumbled in agreement. “Alright.”

Helping him to his feet, Benvolio threw the man’s right hand over his shoulders, allowing for the man to put most of his weight onto Benvolio. Although smaller in stature, Benvolio was surprisingly strong. To stabilize him, Benvolio placed his left arm behind the man’s back, gripping him gently at the waist. Once in this position, the two slowly made it back to the nearby shop, the man limping a bit, wincing and groaning in pain. 

Fumbling slightly with the keys, Benvolio unlocked the back door to the shop, holding the heavy metal door open just long enough to smuggle the other man in before letting it fall shut. Once inside, he loosened his grip on the man, sliding over to the main arranging table to clear enough room for Romeo’s (new?) friend to sit. 

He moved to help him onto the table, placing both of his hands on the other man’s waist, but he stuck out his hand with a small smile.

“Thanks, but I got it.” As soon as he finished his words, he hoisted himself onto the table top, allowing his legs to dangle off the edge. As he did so, Benvolio rummaged around his drawers for the first aid kit he knew he had purposely created and placed in here the moment the flower shop opened. After all, when you work with scissors and thorns all day, you’re bound to need a first aid kit at some point, and it looked like that day had finally come. 

“Aha!” He exclaimed quietly, grasping the large bandages in his hands. Underneath, he found the wet wipes, the small adhesive bandages, the cotton pads, and the hydrogen peroxide, so he made sure to grab all of those as well in spite of the fact that it was, quite literally, an armful. After a quick breath, he returned to the man’s line of sight, setting all of the supplies down onto the table in a quick yet organized fashion.

He looked up at the man, meeting his eyes again. “Okay, I’m going to need you to take your shirt off.” His cheeks burned as the words left his mouth, but he continued nonetheless. “If you’ve got any bad cuts on your stomach or chest, I need to be able to see them.”

The man smirked while following the order, taking his shirt off quickly. “Yes, doctor.”

Benvolio hoped his dark complexion was hiding his blush. Banishing his bad thoughts to the very back of his brain, he grabbed the wet wipes, tearing open the package quickly. As he wiped the dirt and dried blood from off the man’s skin, he asked, “So, can I get a name now, or will I have to stick with bloody blonde disaster?” He looked back into the man’s grey eyes as he finished the phrase, creating an inquisitive look on his face.

The man grinned. “Mercutio Prince. And you?”

Benvolio set the wet wipes down, now moving to the cotton pads and hydrogen peroxide. He focused his attention to soaking the pad in the peroxide while he spoke. “Benvolio Montague. I see your family also continues the tradition of naming their modern children after old Italian people.” 

The man, Mercutio, laughed. “Yeah, my family claims to be related to some old Italian royalty, so- Ouch!” Mercutio exclaimed, curling back from the pain. 

Benvolio pulled the pad away from his particularly nasty cut, his face apologetic. “Sorry, this is going to hurt, but it’s cleaning the alley dirt from the cut. If you don’t want an infection, it’s kind of important.”

Mercutio sighed in defeat. “Alright, I’ll try not to be such a baby.”

Benvolio giggled, something he hadn’t done since he was 15 at least. “It’s still going to sting.” He said, a smile still permanently etched onto his face. “Anyways, do go on.”

Mercutio met his gaze, smiling back at him. “Well, apparently I’m royalty, or at least, that’s my parent’s excuse to why I have such an old fashioned name. You?”

Continuing to clean Mercutio’s wounds, Benvolio replied, “My family’s Italian too, as you can probably tell from the shade of my skin or the stereotypical color of my hair. I’m the third generation in America, but apparently my family was a pretty big deal back in Verona.”

The two were silent for a few moments while Benvolio finished using peroxide on Mercutio’s wounds, using a new wet wipe to wipe off the wounds a bit before applying the bandages, wrapping the large ones around his abdomen. As he finished, he looked up into his eyes, his gaze much softer and much more genuine. 

“Who did this to you?” He asked, his voice soft.

Mercutio chuckled, leaning back slightly. “Eh, it was just Tybalt and his goons, not really a big deal.” He scoffed lightly. “It’s not exactly a rare occurence, a fight between us.”

Benvolio simply looked at him, his expression almost concerned.

“I mean, Tybalt is seriously a huge dick.” Mercutio defended himself.

Benvolio turned away, his eyes cold. “I know he is.” Taking a silent breath, he turned back to Mercutio almost instantaneously, meeting his eyes once again. The fact that he was looking straight into his eyes was making his heart flutter, but he needed to keep his composure. “You know, you should really stay out of Romeo’s ridiculous fights, it’s stupid and it’s not safe.”

Mercutio just smirked, relaxing onto the table. “You know I won’t.”

Benvolio desperately wanted to tell him off, to show that his warning was serious, but all he could do was stare at him, and to wonder what he was thinking. What was he thinking? Was he really the mysterious bad boy he clearly wanted to be seen as, or was there something else? Who was he?

After what seemed like hours of silence, Mercutio shifted his weight forward, leaning towards the ground. “Hey, I gotta go, but I’ll see you around.” He grinned. “Maybe you can patch me up again, Doc.” 

He flashed Benvolio a wink. Benvolio’s cheeks burned.

As Mercutio moved to leave, Benvolio moved toward him, again an involuntary action. “Wait!” He protested, grabbing his wrist. “You need to rest, you can’t just go out and start fighting again!” He pursed his lips, almost pouting slightly. “You’ll get hurt again.”

Mercutio’s smirk grew. “Then you can just patch me up again.”

Benvolio watched as Mercutio left the shop through the front entrance, his exit chiming the door’s bell.

Mercutio Prince, huh.....?


	3. Chapter 3

“Please, Mom, I told you, I’m fine, really.” Benvolio paused, using his shoulder to hold his phone to his ear while he opened the door to his apartment. “No, I don’t need any money right now, business is actually doing very well at the flower shop.”

He dropped his keys into the small bear statue that stood by the door.

“You- look, listen, I’m fine.” He smiled brightly, despite knowing full well his mother couldn’t see his face over the phone. “I know, I know. I just went grocery shopping, I’m fine, really.”

Pulling open the fridge door, his face fell. 

“Hey mom, I’m going to have to call you back.” He paused to let her speak. “No, it’s nothing bad, something just came up. Yep, I’ll talk to you soon, promise. Yep. Say hi to dad for me. Okay. Yep. Love you. Mmm. Okay. Bye.”

Hanging up the phone, he let his hand fall limply to his side, a small sigh escaping his lips.

He seriously forgot to get groceries again.

I mean, it’s not like this hadn’t happened before, that he’d been so caught up with work that he’d forgotten to do basic essential things like shopping, but it usually happened around holidays when seemingly everyone in the city and their mother swarmed the shop, not on normal weeks in the middle of spring like this. Of course, it had happened in the past when his thoughts were so preoccupied with other things, like, for instance, when he had to bail Romeo out of jail for some stupid fight and had to keep him out of trouble for a while. That week, Benvolio was so out of it that he couldn’t do basic, life altering things entirely, let alone go shopping. Romeo had to remind him to eat. But this wasn’t like that either, nothing was really different in his life.

Well, one certain blonde  _ did _ come to mind.

Shaking his head, Benvolio banished the thoughts to the back of his mind. No, he couldn’t be dwelling on that now, he just needed to run downtown and pick up some small essentials to tide him over until the next proper shopping trip.

Benvolio didn’t take the subway often, considering how close his shop was to his apartment, but, considering the slight rumble his stomach was making, he decided to forgo his usual walk and actually use his MetroCard for once instead. The ride itself was, of course, not exactly fun, but it was becoming increasingly more comfortable for Benvolio. He used to hate riding the subway when he was younger, mostly because of how many strangers there were and how physically close they were to him, but adult Benvolio was much less afraid of the interaction. 

After getting off the subway (and away from this  _ very  _ loud child who insisted on singing at the top of her lungs for the entire ride), Benvolio only took few seconds to breathe in the fresh afternoon air before heading straight to his favorite place to shop, a small place called Valentina’s. The bodega in question wasn’t too far from Benvolio’s shop, so he often stopped in to grab a small snack if he was particularly hungry. Not many people visited, because the outside wasn’t exactly the prettiest, but Benvolio knew from experience that more people should. Valentina made the best sandwiches in all of New York.

Strolling into the shop, Benvolio let his eyes glaze over, absentmindedly scratching Alma, Valentina’s cat, behind the ears as he walked past her spot on the countertop. 

Valentina stared at him curiously. “ _ Ay, Bayyyynee,  _ it is not Tuesday?” Her thick, puerto-rican accent soaked heavily through her (admittedly) broken English. “What are you needing, _ acho?” _

Benvolio stopped in front of her, casually leaning onto the counter with a smile. “Yeah, it’s not Tuesday, I’m just stopping in to pick up some last minute groceries to tide me over until my next actually shopping trip.” He explained. “Thought I’d stop here. After all, everyone knows that Valentina has the best fresh produce in town.”

Valentina blushed, playfully swatting at him. “You are flatter me _ , italiano. N _ ow go, pick out groceries _ , mi vida _ will ringing you up _. _ ”

Chuckling quietly to himself, Benvolio grabbed a small basket, moving up and down slowly between the aisles of fresh produce. According to Valentina, her husband grows all of the produce that they sell in the store in their little rooftop garden. That’s why it’s all so good, she says. It’s all grown with love. A bit cheesy, but it’s bound to get cheesy after 40 years of marriage. Benvolio didn’t mind at all.

Leaning down, Benvolio reached out to feel the tomatoes. Obviously, he didn’t want the tomatoes to be unripe and way too hard, but he also didn’t want them to be way too ripe to the point of being mushy. Generally speaking, a ripe tomato is quite a bit heavier than an unripe one, so he was looking for the heaviest, least mushy tomato. They’re always best for cooking, those kinds.

Far too deep in thought about the best way for a tomato to be, Benvolio didn’t notice a pair of grey eyes staring right at him.

Picking out a few perfect tomatoes, Benvolio smiled to himself, putting them in his small basket before even looking up.

He met his eyes.

Benvolio knew those eyes.

“Oh, hey Benvolio.” He said, his eyes sparkling.

Mercutio.

Benvolio could feel his cheeks heating up. God, if there was any hope in the world, don’t let his stupid flaming cheeks reveal his stupid flaming thoughts. “O-oh, hey, Mercutio. I didn’t know you shopped here...”

Mercutio didn’t skip a beat. “Nah, I don’t really.” He said cooly, moving his head in such a way that the slightly longer blonde hair on the top of his head flipped a bit. “I was pretty hungry, but I can’t really cook so I thought I’d stop in and get something easy to eat.” He paused. “You know, like, raw produce?”

Benvolio had to stifle a laugh. “Wait, seriously?” He subconsciously inched closer to Mercutio, leaning slightly into him. “You’re, what, 24? And you can’t cook?”

Mercutio smirked. “Okay, first of all, I’m a little flattered that you think I’m 24, seriously,” He said, pausing for a moment. “29, actually. And yes, I can’t cook. So?”

Benvolio sighed quietly, a smile still gently painted on his lips. “So you’re nearly 30 and you still haven’t learned how to cook?” He shook his head. “A little sad, but okay.”

Mercutio leaned closer. “Yeah?” He bit his lower lip. “And what, for instance, would you suggest I do about it?”

Benvolio stuck to his guns, opting to balance his weight on the produce shelf next to him rather than get closer to the blonde in front of him. “Well, for starters, you have to actually taste what real cooking is like.” He looked away for a moment. “Maybe I could cook dinner for you, sometime?”

Mercutio smiled a real smile, a real, actual, genuine smile. His smirk dissipated as his eyes started to shine brighter. “I’d really like that.”

Benvolio Montague came very, very close to blushing like a little schoolgirl in front of Mercutio. Very close. Just as he could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks, he was stopped in his tracks.

His stomach rumbled. Loudly.

Mercutio chuckled. “Hungry?”

Benvolio rolled his eyes, turning his back to the blonde. “I haven’t had lunch yet. I don’t have any groceries to make lunch right now, that’s why I’m here.”

“Okay, why don’t we go to lunch then?” Mercutio offered, a kind smile on his face. “There’s this new cafe right down the block that I’ve been meaning to try, I just haven’t had the time. I heard they have excellent sandwiches...!”

Benvolio choked on his words, a blush rising. “I-I, I don’t really have enough, uh, money to actually go out to eat, really, just enough for-”

“My treat.” Mercutio insisted, placing his hand gently on Benvolio’s wrist.

Benvolio was going to implode.

Sighing to himself, Benvolio gave up. “You know what?” He asked, turning back to face the eager faced man by him. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

Mercutio grinned. 

It took every single ounce of self-control for Benvolio not to freak out on the short walk there, not to grab his hand everytime it swang near him, not to scream or sing or run away when his hand would gently brush against Benvolio’s thigh while they walked. Mercutio seemed so chill, like none of this casual touching was abnormal in any way, if he even noticed it at all, but Benvolio was shook to his very core.

They sat in the outdoor seating, each ordering a warm drink and a cold sandwich. Benvolio, now he preferred a nice turkey sandwich with a latte, while Mercutio was more apt to opt for pastrami and swiss with black coffee. Benvolio wasn’t surprised. He seemed like a black coffee kind of guy. When ordering, Mercutio was very kind to the waiter. That didn’t surprise Benvolio either, but it sure was a nice thing to see.

“So.” Mercutio said, attempting to stir up a conversation once the waitress had left with their menus. “Flowers, huh?”

“Oh, my flower shop?” 

Mercutio nodded.

Benvolio smiled to himself, almost dreamily. “Yeah, it’s what I love to do. My aunt and uncle, Romeo’s parents, they offered to help put me through college because my own parents were going through some rough times, you know, financially, but I guess all I’ve ever wanted to be was a florist, so my aunt helped me set the whole place up.” He chuckled. “I don’t know if that makes me super unmanly, but I guess she saw the passion in me for the work, and I’ve been doing that ever since.”

Mercutio waved his hand in dismissal. “Hell, that doesn’t make you unmanly.” He grinned. “Flowers are badass, dude.”

Benvolio bit his bottom lip, his smile a lot brighter now. “You think?”

Mercutio nodded. “Oh yeah, for sure.” He leaned back into his chair. “It’s cool that you’ve already found your passion in life, especially considering your age.”

Benvolio leaned in, watching Mercutio inquisitively. “Wait, how old do you think I am?”

Mercutio looked away, desperately searching for something, anything, that he could look at that wasn’t Benvolio. I guess it is possible for the man to feel some form of shame. “Umm...” He paused, trying to prolong his words. “22?”

Benvolio burst out laughing. “Oh my god, that’s the best thing I ever heard,” He choked out between laughs. “but Merc, I’m 28.”

“Oh.” Mercutio murmured, sliding easily back into his usual collected personality. “You’re older than you look.”

Benvolio shrugged. “Baby face. It’s both a curse and a blessing.”

The two took a moment to laugh before moving on in the conversation.

“So, about that dinner you have planned for me...” Mercutio said, starting up the conversation once again, a familiar crooked smile finding his lips. “What are you thinkin’? Chicken parm? Baked ziti? Chicken marsala?”

Benvolio rolled his eyes. “You know, for a person who can’t cook, you sure know a lot about food.”

“I watch a lot of food network.” He admitted.

They both laughed again.

Their food arrived, and Mercutio made sure to thank the waitress. Benvolio took note, watching as his smile straightened as he spoke to her, then immediately fell back to its normal state as he turned his attention back to the dark skinned Italian who sat in front of him. When Mercutio met his eyes again, his heart began to race.

_ Not now, heart _ , he urged.

The two managed to hold a fairly normal conversation as they ate, somehow behaving like normal adults despite Benvolio’s sudden intense hunger. He could have sworn that it wasn’t that bad before, but once food was actually placed in front of him, he suddenly found himself to be starving. Benvolio felt a bit awkward scarfing down his entire meal, but Mercutio didn’t seem to be phazed at all. Thank goodness. 

Like all good things, their lunch had to come to an end. It was Sunday, so Benvolio didn’t have to head back to work, but there were other things to be done other than stare directly into Mercutio’s grey eyes. Even though that’s all he really wanted to do.

Standing up, Benvolio made an effort to push in his chair. “That was very nice, thank you for the meal.” He said aloud, making sure to be very respectful. He almost even bowed his head a bit. 

Mercutio grinned. “Hey, anytime, Benny.”

The way he said his name lit his soul on fire.

Mercutio stood up to match Benvolio, casually pushing his chair in as well with one fluid motion. Again, just proving that he really had no problem getting up in other people’s space, he stepped towards Benvolio, placing his hand right next to Benvolio’s, which still rested on his chair. “You know, if we’re going to have dinner sometime, you might need my number.” 

Benvolio was going to lose it.

“I-I don’t, uh, I don’t have my phone on me, it’s, it’s at h-home...” He choked out.

Mercutio reached into his pocket. “No worries, I’ve got a pen on me.”

Neither of them said a word as Mercutio pulled a small sharpie out of his left pocket, pulled back Benvolio’s sleeve, and gently wrote his name and phone number on Benvolio’s arm. He was tall enough so that Benvolio had to crane his neck up to see his face. Concentrated. Cool. 

As he finished, Mercutio added a little smiley face, capping the marker and sliding it back into his pocket. “There.” He said with a smile. “Hit me up with dinner anytime, okay?”

Benvolio could only nod.

Stepping away, Mercutio “subtly” admired his handiwork. “I’ll see you around, Benvolio.” He called out as he walked away, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets.

Benvolio, still in a bit of shock, simply nodded again.

Did that really just happen?

The entire walk back underground, the entire wait for the subway, the entire commute back home, the entire walk up to his apartment, all of it, all he could overthink about was every little thing that ridiculously attractive man had done in the short period of time they had spent together. All the wrist touches, the glances, the smiles... Was he crazy.

He stopped to take a breath, gazing at the now permanent phone number etched into his arm. He was going to have to wear long-sleeves tomorrow, that was for sure, but for now? He kinda just wanted to look at it, to appreciate it before he put it into his phone.

Mercutio Prince, cousin Romeo’s cool friend and known badass, wrote his phone number in sharpie on Benvolio’s arm.

Could life get any more insane?


	4. Chapter 4

Benvolio looked down at his arm, his face flushing at the sight of the number still visible on his tanned skin. His white button up covered the last few digits, as he always worn the sleeves pushed slightly up at work, but even the lesser amount of the slightly faded black ink he could see still made his heart race.

It  _ had _ been a few days. Maybe he should put the number in his phone?

Despite the fact that he was completely alone in the store, doing nothing but tending to a few on-display plants, he once again found himself becoming very flustered, a huge smile enveloping his face. The idea of putting a strange boy’s phone number into his contacts made him feel like a teenager again.

He reached into his pocket, wrapping his fingers around his phone.

Well, it’s not like he was taking too much time from work, especially considering that he hadn’t had a customer in nearly 2 hours, and by the looks of it, there wouldn’t be another for at least another 30 minutes...

He pulled his phone out of his pocket.

His action of unlocking his phone and pulling up his contacts list was nearly a completely subconscious one, his fingers moving without a thought to their specific motions. He thought about Mercutio’s bright smile from the other day. His thumb hovered over the “Add Contact” button. His breath hitched.

Was that what this is? A nervous, hitched breath type of relationship? A slightly embarrassing, teenager-like attraction that caused heart palpitations, the kind that caused near constant blushing whenever Benvolio so much as remembered his name?

The kind that makes him completely ignore a customer?

“-bad moment, but do you have any snowdrop anemone?” A young girl asked, looking up at Benvolio with wide eyes. “They’re my mother’s favorite.”

Benvolio flushed red in embarrassment. “Uh, yes, s-sorry, it’s not a bad time...” He stuttered out, internally cursing himself for losing his cool in front of a customer, a very rare occurrence for him. “I keep the snowdrop anemone on the west wall with the other spring flowering perennials.”

The girl beamed, bouncing slightly as she thanked him.

As she moved away from the now suffering shop owner, he looked back at his phone. It was still on his contact list.

Well, if this man could completely distract him from his job, his favorite past time, he at least deserved a contact in his phone. It didn’t take long for Benvolio to quick punch in the name and number, but he did hesitate just for a moment at the name. He considered adding a heart to the end, but ultimately decided against it. He didn’t want to act too much like a love-stricken teenager, after all. 

Soon, the customer left, but Benvolio was already too far gone to notice.

Smiling to himself, Benvolio clicked into his messages.

> _ Benvolio: hey, it’s benvolio _
> 
> _ Benvolio: are you busy sunday? we should hang out.. _

He erased the last message.

> _ Benvolio: how have you been? _

He erased the last message.

> _ Benvolio: have anything interesting happen recently? _

He erased the last message, groaning. Had he really reverted all the way back to awkward teen “doesn’t know how to talk to cute boys” Benvolio?

He thought back to their not-date a few days earlier, and the way Mercutio had smiled at him. It was an infectious smile, truly.

> _ Benvolio: so how about that dinner? you free Sunday? _

Sent. 

Mercutio replied nearly immediately.

> _ Mercutio: can’t wait ;) _

Benvolio grinned happily to himself, slipping his phone back into his pocket. Maybe this whole attraction thing wasn’t so bad after all. 


	5. Chapter 5

It was nearly 7:00 PM. The curtains were drawn on the freshly cleaned studio apartment, the lighting was soft and low, and Benvolio was sitting patiently at his dining room table. His gaze had been focused on the door only a few feet from him, his elbow resting gently on his knee. Mercutio had agreed to meet him at 6:30 for dinner, and yet, here Benvolio sat. His pasta all'amatriciana, just taken off of heat, still sat steaming on the table. 

Benvolio was sure he was just caught up in something, that surely he’d be here any minute. He was so nice, he was such a gentleman to everyone he had interacted with, especially him, so Benvolio was absolutely sure that he would be here. He would. 

As much as he hated to admit it, he was _ really  _ excited for his date. Well, if it even was a date... After all, it wasn’t ever established beforehand that it was a date, like, a real actual date. Hell, Mercutio could just be a super outgoing straight guy. Benvolio could just be imagining their encounters to be more flirtatious than they actually were. But then, what would that winky face in the text mean? Benvolio, though wishful, was definitely confused. 

7:30 came, and Benvolio still sat alone. 

Pulling out his phone, Benvolio shot him a quick text, being very careful about the words he chose.

> _ Benvolio: hey, are we still on for dinner tonight? _

He waited a few minutes for a response. In a very non-Mercutio like fashion, he didn’t reply at all, let alone quickly like he usually did.

> _ Benvolio: are you okay? _

He set his phone on the table with a sigh. At this point, Mercutio wasn’t coming. As much as it stung to have been completely ditched by a guy who he thought he was really connected with, he wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t a date. Mercutio, known badass and charmer, had probably moved on from his “friendship” with Benvolio. Maybe he had caught wind that Benvolio was interested in him like  _ that  _ and had run away in fear. Maybe he really was just an (unfortunately) straight guy who’s accidentally flirty with everyone he talks to. Maybe he didn’t like Benvolio as much as he thought he did. 

It stung. 

Sighing into his hands, Benvolio gave up. This wasn’t the first time that something like this had happened, as Benvolio had never been the best at dating, so he refused to be too shaken by this. He refused to cry, especially over a boy. Instead, he decided to do the one thing that still gave him joy: attending to his flower shop. It was late, and he had already closed up shop for the day, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t get a head start on the work for tomorrow, such as clipping display flowers and tidying up. If anything could make him feel better after this blow, it was that flower shop.

By the time he made it to the shop, the sun had already gone down. Unlike most days when he walked to work, he kept a slow, trudging pace, almost dragging his feet. Just because he was too stubborn to let this affect him in his mind, his heart had other plans, feeling dark and heavy. He felt as if his insides were being dragged to the ground, his chest tight. His eyes were glued to the ground in front of him as he walked. 

Suddenly, a familiar sense of deja-vu dawned upon him, making his heart race. Confused, he looked around, trying to deduce what had induced this terrible feeling, causing a sense of fear, nearly. His heart clenched up. Something was very wrong. 

His eyes darted to the entrance to the alley.

Blood painted the ground and the walls.

Benvolio froze. 

An empty wallet sat in the middle of the alley, blood staining the front of the otherwise pristinely kept item. He recognized that wallet. It was the same one that once held a 100 dollar bill, which a certain scruffy blonde had used to pay for an arrangement of orchids, leaving the 40 dollars as a tip as if it were nothing.

His heart dropped.

Mercutio.

Benvolio rushed into the alley, wildly throwing himself around the corner. 

His worst fears were right. There, slumped lifelessly against the brick wall, his eyes closed, laid Mercutio. Blood stained through his black jacket, into his dark jeans, and onto the filthy ground below him. All of his limbs laid limp beside him. Was he....?

Benvolio flew forward, kneeling down by the man’s side. After checking for a pulse, he sighed in relief. Although he was surely in critical condition, he wasn't dead. He wasn’t dead! His pulse was weak, but he wasn’t dead. His eyes moved to Mercutio’s torso. Pulling his shirt up slightly, Benvolio discovered the source of the bleeding: a large, open wound which was rapidly losing blood. He didn’t want to risk getting in infected, but he had to stop the bleeding somehow.

Mercutio’s eyes fluttered open. “B-benvolio?” He asked, his voice weak. “What are you....”

Benvolio’s eyes widened. “Merc, oh god, you’re okay...” He said, his voice betraying his relief. “What happened, how did this happen?” He gestured wildly to the wound.

Mercutio looked down at his wound, then back up to the freaking out Benvolio beside him. “I was.... stabbed, I think..” With that, he passed out again, his head falling into Benvolio’s hand.

“Shit..” Benvolio muttered, shoving his hand into his pocket. No phone. No ambulance. He was going to have to stabilize him himself before getting him to a hospital. “Oh god, oh god, Mercutio...” Completely disregarding his nice date clothes, he scooped Mercutio into his arms, grunting slightly at the new weight he carried. For a lean guy, he was pretty muscular. Blood was getting all over him, but at this point, he didn’t care. He just needed to get Mercutio to safety.

Forcing the door open, Benvolio nearly sprinted into the shop, neglecting to shut the door behind him in favor of throwing everything haphazardly off of the arrangement table. New flowers, ribbons, and crafting supplies flew in every which direction, but Benvolio would clean up that later. This was the only thing on his mind. After placing Mercutio on top of the table, Benvolio tore of his new jacket, scrunching it up into a makeshift pillow to go under Mercutio’s head while he got to work. There, he tore a chunk off of his sleeve, using it to apply pressure to the wound and soak up some of the blood. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes.

He leaned down close to Mercutio, his lips close to his ears. “Please...” He pleaded, tears threatening to spill. “Please don’t die on me. Not here, not now.”

Once temporarily stabilized, Benvolio scooped him into his arms once again, rushing to the street. Absolutely no one was around, so Benvolio was once again faced with no way to call for help. He looked around, panicked, unsure of what to do. 

Suddenly, a taxi started to draw near, a rare occurrence in this more remote part of the city at this time. Benvolio’s face lit up. He wildly waved his hand, quickly calling the cab to his side. As the cab pulled up, Benvolio shoved Mercutio into the backseat, making sure to keep checking his pulse. It was low, but still there. 

After climbing in, Benvolio slammed the door, rushing his words out to the driver. “I need to get to the hospital as fast as possible, my friend’s really badly hurt.” He barely stopped to breathe. “Please, I’ll pay you anything you want.”

The cab driver nodded, grunting. “Don’t worry about it, kid.” He said gruffly. “It’s an emergency, I’ll let this slide.” And with that, they began speeding toward the nearest hospital, only a few miles away. Benvolio was sure that the cab driver was driving at least 20 miles per hour over the speed limit, but at this point, he really didn’t care. As they rode, Benvolio kept Mercutio’s head in his lap, constantly keeping an eye on his breathing and his pulse. God, this was not how Benvolio thought his night was going to turn out. 

Upon arriving at the hospital, Benvolio stumbled into the emergency room, Mercutio slumped in his arms. He barely had the energy to call out for help. Almost immediately, a herd of nurses swarmed him, each asking a million questions a minute.

“What happened?” One nurse with very angry eyes asked, checking Mercutio’s pulse.

“I-I don’t know.” Benvolio stuttered out, struggling to catch his breath. “I found him like this, outside my shop in the alley.”

“What’s his name?” Another asked, helping a few others lift him onto a movable hospital bed.

“Mercutio, Mercutio Prince.” Benvolio replied, watching closely with worry.

“Birth date?” Another asked, quickly scratching out the information onto a clipboard while the others moved to push the bed into the treatment area, each fully scrubbed.

“I’m sorry, I don’t really know that.” Benvolio admitted, looking down at his feet. “I don’t really know him all that well.” Which of course, wasn’t a lie, as he really didn’t know his birthday, but it wasn’t the whole truth, as Benvolio felt that he had gotten to know Mercutio very well up until this point, but that was a whole can of worms for another day.

The nurse nodded, putting down her clipboard just as the other nurses had gotten the bed to the big doors which separated the waiting room from the emergency room. “Thank you, we’ll come get you once he’s stable.” And with that, the nurse rushed off to accompany the others, grabbing ahold of the metal bars the lined the bed, pushing Mercutio into the emergency room with much haste. They weren’t panicked, after all, this was their job, but they were prepared. Everything was going to be okay. He hoped.

As they made it through, the large doors swung open. 

Benvolio watched, standing there, as a few doctors joined the swarm of nurses, pushing Mercutio down the hall towards whatever room was equipped to deal with a situation like this. 

His heart, once again, felt heavy.

The door thudded to a close.

His muscles all relaxed, his posture slumping slightly. Yes, he was still very worried for Mercutio, but there was nothing he could do to help him now. He was in better hands. All Benvolio could do, all that he could stand to do, was wait. 


	6. Chapter 6

By the time Benvolio was allowed to see Mercutio again, it was nearly 3 in the afternoon the next day. He had not eaten. He had barely slept. The room that they were in was absolutely freezing, and the chair he was given was incredibly uncomfortable, but Mercutio had not woken up yet, and Benvolio would not leave his bedside until he knew for sure that he was going to be okay.

Benvolio clasped his hands together, laying his face on them as he inhaled deeply. He was never really one for prayer, but if there was indeed a god out there, he hoped and prayed deeply for Mercutio. Praying that he’d wake up. Praying that he’d be okay. Praying that, if he did wake up, he would care as much for Benvolio’s help as Benvolio cared for his well-being in that moment. God, he prayed and prayed.

It had been hours, and just... nothing.

Earlier, a kind nurse had explained that Mercutio had been stabbed multiple times in his torso, and he had lost a lot of blood. He must have bleeding out for hours, she had said. It was a miracle that the blood loss alone didn’t kill him, so he was incredibly lucky to even be alive. It might be a while before his body was strong enough to wake itself up, so again, all Benvolio could do was wait. Hope. And wait. 

Benvolio sighed, letting his head fall onto Mercutio’s chest. It was very gently moving, as he was still breathing, but the movement was still small. Slow. 

Benvolio closed his eyes, refusing to let his negative emotions condense into tears.

Mercutio’s eyes fluttered open, slowly. “Benvolio?” He croaked, his voice struggling to work.

Benvolio flew up from where he was laying, his eyes wide. He barely even had time to exclaim Mercutio’s name before he had wrapped his arms around him. “Mercutio, oh, oh thank god you’re okay....!”

Mercutio didn’t even flinch at the touch. He blinked slowly, looking around confusedly at the room around him. “Where... are we, what happened?”

Benvolio leaned back slightly, moving to look Mercutio in the face. “Mercutio, I found you passed out in the alley behind my shop... You were..” He paused, choking up slightly on his words. “You never showed up to dinner, so I was just going to go and start on tomorrow’s duties, but you were there, you were bleeding, you were-” He let out a choked sob, falling back into Mercutio’s embrace. “Oh god, if I had just given up a little earlier, maybe you wouldn’t have lost so much blood, maybe you’d be better, I’m so sorry, I-”

“Hey.” Mercutio interrupted him, stiffly moving his hand up to Benvolio’s shoulder. “If it wasn’t for you, I.... I might not be here right now.” His voice was much softer, more tender than before. “You saved me, Benvolio.”

Benvolio’s breath hitched. He could feel his tears threatening to spill.

“Oh, Mercutio, what happened?” He asked, his voice shaking. “Was it Tybalt and his goons? I mean, I never thought that they’d go this far, but they’ve always been just so awful, and...”

Mercutio flashed a crooked smile. “Nah, it wasn’t them.” His, admittedly, dazzling smile faded, his eyes fading with it. “I don’t know the guys who did it, they were just a bunch of nobodies in masks who wanted my money. Apparently, they saw me pay for an 8 dollar coffee with a 50, and figured I’d be a good target, but I guess they had to resort to, well, other methods, when I inevitably put up a fight.” He smirked painfully at Benvolio. “If I’m going down, I better go down swinging, you know?”

“Other methods?” Benvolio repeated, his eyebrows scrunching together. “Merc, they stabbed you. Multiple times, in the gut.” He gently rested his hand onto the bandage above his wounds. “It’s a miracle that they didn’t puncture a vital organ, or you’d really be dead.” He sighed. “I can’t believe someone would go to this extreme just for a little bit of money.”

Mercutio chuckled. “Yeah, just a little bit of money...”

Benvolio leaned to the side, looking him in the eye. “Hm?”

“Those would-be killer probably made off with at least 3,500 dollars.” Mercutio said nonchalantly, looking straight into Benvolio’s eyes. “That much is at least worth an attacking, right?”

Benvolio sighed dramatically, laying his head onto Mercutio’s shoulder. “At this point, with how incredibly insane my life’s been since I’ve met you, I’m not even surprised that you carry thousands of dollars with you at all times."Mercutio leaned into Benvolio's embrace. “Mmm, you think I’m an eccentric bad-boy??” He hummed, biting his lip.

Benvolio rolled his eyes, smiling. “Hmm, eccentric maybe, but bad-boy? Definitely not.”

Mercutio scoffed. “Hey, I missed our date because I was busy being in a fight! And being stabbed! I definitely think that counts as being a bad-boy... Don’t you...?”

Benvolio smiled to himself, his schoolboy-ish blush returning. “Oh, so you thought it was a date, huh?”

Mercutio caught his gaze, his eyes soft and genuine. “Thought? It was definitely a date. I was going to surprise you at your flower shop beforehand, but I ended up getting stabbed instead, which was really a sort of bummer on your behalf.?

Benvolio snorted. “On my behalf?” He leaned up slightly. “Merc, you were literally stabbed. You almost died. How is that a bummer for me??”

Mercutio smirked. “Well, you didn’t get to experience the full Mercutio Date Experience™, so you definitely missed out on that.”

Benvolio leaned closer to him, close enough to feel his body heat radiating between the two. “Yeah, and what was that... date experience... going to be like?”

Mercutio smiled, his real genuine smile nonetheless, and gently placed his hand onto Benvolio’s cheek. “Well, for one, I was definitely going to do this.” Without skipping a beat, as soon as the words left his lips, he pulled Benvolio down to him, their lips softly pressing together.

Whoa. This was actually happening. Mercutio Prince, cousin Romeo’s cool friend and known badass, was kissing him. Him, of all people! His lips were sweet, and soft, and good, but they were also rough, and whole, and there. Mercutio was there, and it felt absolutely amazing.

Benvolio could taste the salt of his own tears on his lips. 

He giggled as they eventually broke apart, still staying only inches from each other.

Mercutio bit his lip, looking around sheepishly. “Heh, I’m sure this wasn’t really how you expected your date with me to go...”

Benvolio smiled, leaning into him. “Well, dragging my nearly-dead crush from a dark alley to a hospital wasn’t exactly on my list of cute date ideas, but it definitely worked out.” He blushed. “After all, I did score a kiss from the cutest boy I know.”

Mercutio grinned. “Aww, I’m your crush?”

Benvolio rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

Mercutio rested his hand on Benvolio’s. “Nah, nah, it’s cute, really.” He sighed happily. “At least all it took for us to happen was your date, you know, me, missing said date in favor of getting stabbed and almost dying. That’s not too much of a price to pay, now is it?”

Benvolio chuckled to himself. “You really are something, huh...?”

Mercutio grinned from ear to ear. “I sure am a character... Aren’t you glad you’ve got me?”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “Yeah, I am.”


End file.
